


ink, slate, caesious

by surrealmeme



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Atmospheric, Ballet, Classical Music, Classical References, Dating, Day Off, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Boyfriends, Domestic Fluff, Early Mornings, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Musical References, No Plot/Plotless, Post-Canon, References to Canon, References to Classical Music, References to Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet References, bc henry is a lil insecure about his interests, everything else is completely pg, everything else is very pg, firstprince, rated for language, references to The Iliad, soft, that would be the iliad part, that's probably enough tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 09:25:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19315327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surrealmeme/pseuds/surrealmeme
Summary: Light slowly seeped into the world, pushing aside the velvet curtains of night. The sky turned from ink to slate to caesious to vivid streaks of redorangepinkyellow; suddenly, the burst of color disappeared, yielding to an expanse of pale powder blue. The coloring of the sky heralded the warmth that spread through the air and reached an old brownstone hidden away on a verdant Brooklyn street.Alex and Henry on a rare day off.





	ink, slate, caesious

Light slowly seeped into the world, pushing aside the velvet curtains of night. The sky turned from ink to slate to caesious to vivid streaks of redorangepinkyellow; suddenly, the burst of color disappeared, yielding to an expanse of pale powder blue. The coloring of the sky heralded the warmth that spread through the air and reached an old brownstone hidden away on a verdant Brooklyn street.

Golden light streamed into the building through large windows; dust motes hung suspended in wide glowing streaks. The sunlight tickled the faces of two young men that lay in a plush bed, peaceful and intertwined. The warmth on their cheeks gently roused them from their sleep, and one of them rolled over to face the other.

“Henry?” Alex softly said while gently shaking him. “You awake?”

“Well, I am now,” Henry said, feeling a tiny bit of annoyance that immediately faded away.

“Whatever, I felt you moving around way more than you do when you’re actually asleep. So, you were about to wake up anyway,” Alex said. “What I was going to ask, before you were _so rude_ to me, was if you want to go out anywhere or just stay home.”

It was one of those rare days when both Alex and Henry were completely free. No tests to study for or logistical puzzles to work out. No emergency trips to the White House or unavoidable royal appearances all the way in Westminster. Just a quiet day to do whatever they pleased.

 _“Mmm…”_ Henry said, still pushing through the fog of sleep. “Let’s stay in for the morning, maybe go out in the evening when it’s cooled down.”

Alex readily agreed.

“But that doesn’t mean I’m saying we can just sleep until half past noon,” he quickly added. “There’s other days we’ve got the morning off, but never the whole day. I’m not about to waste it, you know.”

“Sleeping isn’t a waste, and I think you've forgotten that I’ve gone to bed at two for the past few days,” Henry sleepily reminded.

“So have the rest of us, you’re not special,” Alex dismissed. “Come on, just get up – I’ll make you that tea you like, and we can spend the morning sitting around on the couch.”

And, well, that only required minimally more effort than sleeping for a few more hours. And maybe Henry would finally get to read that new edition of _The Iliad_ that included commentary on Achilles and Patroclus… and Alex would be there next to him, scrolling through Twitter and pointing out the most ridiculous rumours… yes, getting out of bed now sounded quite attractive to Henry.

So, Henry let Alex take him by the hand and pull him out of their bed to the kitchen. As promised, Henry sat on one of the barstools as Alex got to work, pulling out not only his own coffee grounds but also Henry’s electric kettle and tin of loose-leaf breakfast tea. The clean morning sunlight illuminated Alex’s face with a soft glow; he looked bright and energized, all evidence of late nights and pillow creases smoothed away. The scene was one of idyllic domesticity – something Henry thought he would never be able to have.

When Alex brought Henry his tea – steeped for three minutes plus a splash of milk, just how he liked it – Henry said,

“You know I love you, right?”

To which Alex responded with a casual “Of course I do, babe” and a carefree smile.

Alex sat next to Henry and the two of them sipped at their drinks, basking in the sun and idly chatting.

“You wanted to go out later?” Alex asked, remembering what Henry had said earlier.

“Ah, about that,” Henry started. “While there _is_ a show I’d like to see, I don’t really think you’d be all that interested. And I’d hate to bore you on our day off,” he said. “I’ll just go another time.”

“Hey, at least tell me what it _is_ ,” Alex said, laughing a little. “Nothing wrong with having niche interests.”

“Well, I’ve received an offer to attend the American Ballet Theatre’s production of _Romeo and Juliet_ – you know, the one composed by Prokofiev? Incredible music – and I missed it when the Royal Ballet did it in 2019. So, well, I’d like to go,” Henry finished a little awkwardly.

Alex’s first response was not an acceptance or rejection of the ballet. It was instead a very genuine, organic comment:

“You are so incredibly cute when you talk about things you love, Henry.”

Then Alex added,

“So why do you get weird about it when you’re done? You haven’t ever heard me complain when you’re talking through all your ideas for your project on queer classic English literature, right? I _like_ it, you know.”

There was a brief pause in which Henry reconciled the minor but lifelong shame that had surrounded his literary, artistic, and cultural passions – they were too _feminine_ to be proper – with Alex’s unconditional support.

“I suppose that’s right,” he eventually said. “And I’m grateful for it.”

A few sweet nothings were exchanged, then Alex continued,

“And _come on_ , Henry, I’m not as uncultured as you think. Theater is cool, I can appreciate classical music – why not combine them?”

“I never said you were _uncultured_ , exactly.”

Alex scoffed.

“Come on, we both know that’s what you’re thinking half the time. Anyway, ballet sounds interesting.”

Henry’s face brightened.

“Oh, so would you be willing to –”

Alex made a noise that was a cross between an exasperated sigh and an incredulous laugh.

“ _Obviously!”_ he said. “ _Yes,_ I’m more than willing to go the ballet with you tonight.”

Alex shook his head, laughing in earnest now.

“You can be really oblivious sometimes, you know?” he said.

The delight and relief on Henry’s face were near-immediately replaced with indignation.

 _“Oblivious? Me?”_ he repeated. “I’m sorry, but do you not recall just _how much_ of an utter fool you were during the election? How dense you were?”

“Like you were any better yourself, Prince Feelings-Scare-Me-Guess-I’d-Better-Run-Away-to-Fucking-England?”

But no matter how much he and Alex bickered about their past mutual pining, the happiness never left Henry’s face.


End file.
